


The Battlespire

by Tolpen



Category: Elder Scrolls Online
Genre: Choose Your Own Adventure, POV Second Person
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-09
Updated: 2020-05-09
Packaged: 2021-03-03 03:34:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24098134
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tolpen/pseuds/Tolpen
Summary: This is an experiment in my writing Choose Your Own Adventure story.If successful, you can in the form of multiple chapters explore a small "DLC" in which you visit the famous Battlespire Academy and resolve yet another Daedric plot.
Comments: 8
Kudos: 3





	The Battlespire

**Author's Note:**

> As said: This is an experiment. As such, any feedback you can give in the comments would be appreciated. I accept anything from incomprehensible screeching to detailed commentary paragraph-by-paragraph. Mainly please let me know if you'd like to see the rest of this story.
> 
> I have been following La_Temperanza's Guide in making this

Say what you want about the Tribunal and Vvardenfell, there is something that draws a good hero to the city of Vivec. That something might be a divine presence, but most likely it is simply the presence of a quarter with publicly accessible forges and looms in the close proximity to a bank and the drop site for commissioned works. The practicality of the composition clearly says that it was made by working people out of need and necessity. Certainly it didn't came out of the hands of any god, and definitely not out of Vivec's. The boxes are too box-shaped to have anything to ever to do with Lord Vivec.

As you make your way through the crowd, trying not to get distracted by cute daedric puppies and shining weapons and clothes which remind you you should give your own garb a good polish to look a bit better, you trip over something. You turn around to give that thing a good kick it deserves for making your day even more complicated, but you don't act on that impulse once you notice what that object is.

It is a hand. Usually having severed hands with an entire forearm and part of that bendy bit – elbow! - is seriously unhygienic, but this one is not made of flesh. It is brass instead. Fine intricate work with rune-like scrawl all over it. It could have been lost by a member of Fyr's latest expedition. Returning it to its owner could be well rewarded.

**< Search for the owner.> **

**< Leave it be.> **

You don't have this kind of time, and there are easier ways to make money than to search for a hoarder of clockwork brass in a city full of weird people. You already have plans for today, and being extremely magnanimous is not among them.

You don't drop the brass forearm back into the ground, though. Instead you place it on a nearby stack of ropes where there is a chance that somebody notices it, and also the risk of it being stepped on is significantly lower. With some luck the person this belongs to finds it before some pragmatically thinking Argonian smelts it back into an ingot and sells it-

Now, where was it you were headed before this distracted your attention? Oh yes, Craglorn.

The story ends here. Perhaps you would like to try again?

**I would like that.**

You look around. Among the many strange visitors to Vivec, how do you find someone who has lost half of a metallic arm? You decide to search the adjacent area, and if you don't find anyone, you can always start asking. Carrying that hand visibly might also help – it's owner should certainly recognise it.

Master Fyr's people usually arrive by boat, so you head to the dock area first. There is the ordinary crowd – some sailors and captains, dockworkers moving barrels, the fishermen, crafters, and outlaws. None of them look like they have lost a spare limb, even though some of them admire it with curiosity from a safe distance. Nobody here.

You head for the tents of the battleground promoters. Perhaps the person is there. As you cross the wooden bridges, you pass gladiators and fighters with enchanted weapons and aura of power about them. Well, it is more the stench of sweat and blood. But both keeps them the same amount of personal space.

The is an irregularity in the horde of purposefully walking armed men and mer, someone you spot out of the corner of your eye. He is a Dunmer – or you at least expect him to be a male because the chest plate is not pulvinated enough to accommodate for breasts. You cannot make out his face, because the long silver hair obscures it, as he keeps looking down on the ground. He walks slowly. As if he lost something and is looking for it. Additionally, his right sleeve just hangs limply, empty from elbow down.

You suppose that is a try as good as any, so you approach him with a greeting and inquire whether or not he is the owner of the peculiar item you've found.

He looks at the brass hand you have practically shoved into his face. Then he takes a step to side so he can look at you and he smiles: “Why, yes! Oh, this is a bit awkward. Would you believe that I am able to lose such a thing? You forget to tighten one screw in the morning, and there you go, a whole arm off. I really am embarrassed.” He does not look embarrassed.

**< Give him the hand.> **

**Who are you?**

“My name is Eustaar. I am one of the Apostles from the Clockwork City.” He eyes the hand. Maybe he is worried that you are not going to return it.

**< Give him the hand.> **

**[Locked: Completed the Clockwork City]You don't look like an Apostle. **

Eustaar rubs the back of his head. “I don't? But I have a brass arm and everything! Well, you have my brass arm.”

You keep giving him the stinky eye, and he breaks after a moment: “Alright, alright, I am here on the behalf of the Imperial Battlemages because... Well, I'll get to that. But I really am an Apostle. Among other things.”

**< Give him the hand.> **

“Thank you. Oh look at it, somebody had to step on it, it has a dent in- Hm, doesn't matter, I have to make adjustments to it anyway. Would you walk with me to the forge?” Since you have nothing better to do that day and he seems as he would like to talk to you of all people, you do walk with him to the forge.

Once there, the mer finds a place at an anvil, whips out the toolkit and begins to do his adjustments on the arm. You don't see any changes happening to it, but he seems satisfied. It takes only a couple of minutes, and once finished, he clips the arm on into his elbow socket with a satisfying click.

“Ahhhh, that is so much better. I am really embarrassed that you had to witness that. Anyway, I actually wanted to talk to you. And I still do.”

**[Locked: Completed the Clockwork City but not the Main Quest] What about? **

**[Locked: Completed the Main Quest but not the Clockwork City]What about? **

**[Locked: Completed the Clockwork City and the Main Quest]What about? **

**[Locked: None of the above]What about? **

“I, Instructor Eustaar, have been asked by the Battlemage to find outsiders who would be capable to help with... a peculiar situation.” The mer rubs his hands. It almost looks like he is massaging feeling back into the right one.

“As you certainly know,” he continues in a voice that strongly indicates he thinks you have absolutely no idea, “the veil between Nirn and Oblivion has been practically non-existent during the Interregnum. In places on the borders it has created... worrying disturbances.”

You ask him how do you fit in all that.

“The Battlemage is seeking for resourceful volunteers who – and here I quote – are willing to whack some daedras. There is a solid coin for that. You strike me as a person who could be interested in such a job.”

Oh boy, would you! Eustaar smiles at you: “In that case I can provide you with a portal to the Battlespire.”

**< Use Eustaar's portal>**

“I was sent here on the behalf of the Battlespire. The Imperial Battlemages have heard of your actions, and deem you fit to handle a delicate task.” He smiles at you nervously. “And since I still officially work for them and was free, they all were like 'Hey, Eustaar should run this errand,' so here I am, to whisk you away to the border of Oblivion, because things have been getting out of hand lately.”

You cannot say that you expected your day to take this turn. Eustaar seems to sense that, as he continues: “Oh come on, your reputation precedes you. Are you really going to say no to smashing some Daedras?”

He is right about that, you are not saying no to that. That leaves only one question: When are you leaving?

“Oh, we can go right now. The Battlemage cannot wait to meet you after everything she's heard about you. Allow me to provide you with a portal.”

**< Use Eustaar's portal>**

“I apologize that you had to witness my personal maintenance. My arrival to Tamriel was not without its difficulties. That is the past now, the gear spins to the future. I should speak about the matters which are pressing: The Imperial Battlemages tasked me to find someone willing to help their cause. Knowing what you did for Sotha Sil, I could not think of anyone better than you.”

The Dunmer takes a deep breath and clasps his hands in front of himself as if in a prayer: “Hereby I, Instructor Eustaar, ask for your help to protect the Battlespire against a potential Daedric threat. I am here to provide you with a portal and escort you to the Battlemage.”

You are not so sure about that.

“She is a lovely lady. She thinks us Apostles all sticks in a mud, but she is completely correct about it. She cares more about you breaking Oblivion skulls than fine brass. Are you coming? I don't want to hold this portal open all day.”

**< Use Eustaar's portal>**

He fidgets with the hem of his sleeves. “You know, it's really an honour to meet you, after everything what I have heard of you and all. I wish we'd have met sooner, or at least in some better circumstances.”

That sounds serious.

The mer nods. “It is. I am sure you are familiar with the Imperial Battlemages. If you are not, well, they are familiar with you. And you are a sort of a celebrity among the Apostles. It is sort of fitting that the Battlemage sent ol' Eustaar of all people to fetch you, don't you think? I mean, since I have ties to both parties as well.”

You cannot help feeling that he is rambling like this, because he is to deliver you some bad news. “In that you are correct. The Battlespire is having some Daedric issues. The facility is understaffed, to put it mildly, and is looking for people to send the Daedras back to Oblivion... and to make sure they stay there. You are regarded as an expert in these matters.”

It is true that you have certain undeniable experience in this regard.

“Indeed. If you'd be so kind and used to portal which I am about to provide. Do not worry, I am right behind you.

**< Use Eustaar's portal>**

As far as your experience with portals goes, what you've just experience was a pleasant travel. You still feel like somebody has just tried to pull your liver out through your teeth. You put on your brave face and try to appear unaffected.

Eustaar who has appears behind you just as the portal closes, is above such pretences – he bends over with an ugly grimace in his face. He spits into the sand under his feet and says: “Ugh. Portals. I cannot imagine doing this for living. I have good news for you, though: The next one we are going to take is far more pleasant.”

What portal? Oh, that pillar of light Eustaar is now pointing to? It is actually the only thing on this small remote island – besides the stone platform with crystals from which a bright blue ray shoots up to the sky this place is barren. All those hypothetical scenarios in which you are stranded on a deserted island count on something less jejune.

“This is the Pillar of Light,” Eustaar explains. “It's called that, because us from the Battlespire Academy aren't exactly geniuses when it comes to naming things. I could go into the technical details of this thing, but we can talk about it someday when the Battlemage doesn't want to see you immediately. And when she says immediately, it means that yesterday was late. This thing is going to throw us to the Weir Gate in the Battlespire. It's one of the best ways to travel, right after getting stuck inside of a sentry outer casing and then rolling downhill.”

Sentry outer casing?

Eustaar turns to you with a half-smile. “I have a proposition for you: You come meet the Battlemage, and then you can hit me in the canteen, and I tell you all the embarrassing drunken stories from my studies at the Academy, deal?”

You won't probably get a better deal than that.

“Great. Now haul yourself into the Pillar. The Battlemage is not a patient woman. Oh, and keep you hands close to you body, lest you bump them into something you don't want to bump into.”

The Pillar of Light is somewhere between a slide and a waterfall in the means of feeling. Your knees take the landing rather harshly.

You have now reached the Battlespire. For now the story ends here. Perhaps you would like to try again?

**I would like that.**


End file.
